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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26380600">if I am hopeful (should I be hopeful)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsowriterly/pseuds/notsowriterly'>notsowriterly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>AWAE Modern AU Drabbles [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anne with an E (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Renew Anne with an E, pls i need more</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:33:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26380600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsowriterly/pseuds/notsowriterly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>First season Modern AU drabbles about a one Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Avonlea was like a town frozen in time. If Anne could’ve re-winded the scenery like a film reel, it would almost be like nothing changed, the dark branches dappled with white petals like a reflection of the pale clouds above, the champagne colored sun, the glittering lake with the forlorn tree like a long-haired woman bent over in hysterics. </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Anne’s journal already had names for the places, because she’d long since realized that names never matched the places they were named after. Often they reflected some person of importance or some colonial evil, stripping the places of their innate wonder, their mystique. </i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>AWAE Modern AU Drabbles [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917235</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Your Will Shall Decide Your Destiny</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey! </p><p>I know I'm late to the party, but I just decided to re-watch awae and after trolling the fandom page for the fiftieth time I was like. Screw it. I'm going to write and fill the void. These are drabbles, I'll update as I go and as I have inspiration. I hope you enjoy! </p><p>(Nothing is beta read, if you find errors, you can leave them in the comments)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    Avonlea was like a town frozen in time. If Anne could’ve rewinded the scenery like a film reel, it would almost be like nothing changed, the dark branches dappled with white petals like a reflection of the pale clouds above, the champagne colored sun, the glittering lake with the forlorn tree like a long-haired woman bent over in hysterics.</p><p>    Anne’s journal already had names for the places, because she’d long since realized that names never matched the places they were named after. Often they reflected some person of importance or some colonial evil, stripping the places of their innate wonder, their mystique.</p><p>    Avonlea sounded quite nice though. She thought so, even when she first saw the name in the grainy screen of the halfway-house’s computer. It sounded like a fantasy place, filled with towers and knights to kill evil dragons, and fae creatures skittering through the wood. In between cement walls with peeling wall paper, Anne could feel Avonlea like the first gasping breath after years spent drowning.</p><p>    Avonlea Institute was a small college, private but good, but it’s lack of accommodations meant that it was more or less inhabited by children of the nearby town, as a stepping stone before higher studies. Anne trawled Craigslist and Facebook and every other site she found for accommodations before she’d finally found a posting for Green Gables. It was rent-free, to a certain extent, the student would have to pay off their stay by working it off, being a hired hand for their farm.</p><p>    Anne had never worked on a farm before, but she’d survived foster care. Anne knew that if one could survive foster care, they could survive anything. And Mrs. Spencer, the woman who posted the ad, said that the owners of the house were willing train her up to speed before school started.</p><p>    Four years of accommodations. A <em>home</em>, as far as she was considered, with a room that she could call her own.</p><p>    By the time the bus made it to the corner a mile away from from the Cuthbert’s farm, the sun was on it’s way down from it’s pinnacle in the sky, falling on everything at a warm, flattering angle.</p><p>    “Good bye, Mr. Thomas!” Anne called, and the elderly man tipped his hat, and set the bus trundling off back toward the horizon. Anne knew he was probably glad to be rid of her. In the middle of her second nervous monologue, well on it’s way to being fifteen minutes long at that point, he’d said, “You have a mouth on you don’t you?”</p><p>    Which Anne knew, was always a code for “shut up.”</p><p>    But she was nervous, so she couldn’t shut up, and she spent the rest of the thirty minute bus ride telling him, of all things, her childhood spent imagining she was Princess Cordelia, a solitary, wise princess, who suffered from dragons and witches but not ugly red hair.</p><p>    She tried to channel Princess Cordelia now, focusing on the house in the far distance. The land was so open here, she could actually see it despite it being so far away, the leaf green roof tiles and the bright white eaves. The house was curtained by some of the same trees that lined the White Way of Delight, and Anne beamed at the sight.</p><p>    The trees were an omen. No one could be anything but happy with those trees in view.</p><p>    The mile lasted an eternity, a minute.</p><p>    Anne stopped on the porch, taking a moment to straighten her ragged shirt and the fall of her khaki skirt. It was one of the best looking things she owned. First impressions were important, after all. She hoped the shirt didn’t look how sweaty it felt. It would ruin the entire mild mannered student look she was going for.</p><p>    She looked up at the trees again. Nothing would wrong with those trees here, watching over her.</p><p>    She could feel it.</p><p>    She breathed in their sweet, clean scent, and knocked on the door.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Remorse is the Poison of Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Aaaand I'm back. </p><p>I got my parents into Anne with an E, so I can't possibly stop writing this, can I? I'm going to see if I can update at least once a week, since we're all watching it and giving me so many ideas. Honestly Anne is a lot like me, her propensity to use big words and dramatic declarations, which never felt right in my other works, so writing her is kind of a breath of fresh air. I feel like her voice comes so naturally, and it really is a joy to write. </p><p>I've decided I'll order these drabbles once I'm done, but for now they're going to be in order of whatever scene inspires me the most that day. If that annoys anyone, I'm sorry! I'll keep the episode titles as the chapters so you can read them in order if you'd like. </p><p>As always, nothing is beta read, so if you have any suggestions, you can leave it in the comments below.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The doorbell rang. Again and again and again, in rapid succession. For a second Anne was sure that this was a part of her dream, but the fifth time jolted her into heart wrenching awareness, and she threw her covers off and stumbled down the stairs to the door, flying past a groggy Matthew stepping out of his bedroom. </p><p>It was still dark. Which meant nothing good. </p><p>Anne threw open the door. </p><p>Diana didn’t even look like herself. Her hair was sweat matted and rope-like around her face and she was wearing a worn t-shirt that Anne thought Mrs. Barry wouldn’t allow within ten miles of her home. Sweat or tears were drying on her face and her collar was dark with dampness. </p><p>All of this Anne had a second to catalogue, given Diana threw her arms around her the moment Anne opened the door. </p><p>“Oh, Anne, Anne, you have to help me! It’s Minnie May, she’s sick, and we were on our way to the doctor’s but they’re an hour out and <em>she’s not breathing</em>, Anne, please, please, I don’t know what to do, you have to—” </p><p>“Where is she?” Anne said.</p><p>The sharp tone of her voice seemed to snap Diana out of her hysteria, and she took a heaving breath before wheezing out, “She’s in the car, her and Aunt Josephine—” </p><p>Anne pushed past her into the driveway where the car was idling, Minnie May lain across the back seat and an elderly woman in the front. At the sight of Anne and Diana, her weathered face creased even further and her eyebrows became steep lines on her face. </p><p>“Diana Barry, I told you that girl needs a proper doctor, what do you think you’re doing?” </p><p>Anne ignored her and pulled Minnie May from the back seat, dodging Aunt Josephine when she opened her door, and calling out, “Did you let your parents know?” </p><p>Aunt Barry and Diana scrambled after her, Diana stumbling through an answer—The Barrys were at a rally, so they didn’t seem to be able to hear their phones, Diana had called nearly fifty times with twice as many texts—but Anne wasn’t too concerned with the answer. </p><p>Minnie was taking wheezing, barking breaths, and Anne knew that sound intimately. </p><p>“It’s croup,” she announced, setting Minnie May on the couch. </p><p>Aunt Josephine scoffed. “And that’s your professional opinion, I assume?” </p><p>“I’ve seen it a good eight times, so close enough, don’t you think?” Anne said, tone even. Her mind was whirring with tasks, her hands moving on autopilot. She rearranged Minnie May on her back, tipping her head back to facilitate ease of breathing, and Matthew rushed in to help her but she waved him off. </p><p>“Matthew, I want you to go get the doctor. We’ll hold the fort until then.” Matthew nodded and scampered into the garage. Under the harsh sounds of Minnie May’s breaths she could hear the grumble of Belle starting her engines. Anne pulled her hair up into a bun, pushing her sleeves up and taking out a pot and putting it on the stove. </p><p>Diana stared at her. “What are you doing?” </p><p>“Steaming helps with croup,” Anne explained, darting to the medicinal cupboard to grab the Vicks vapor rub before going into the spice cabinet and grabbing the turmeric. </p><p>“Turmeric? Next thing you know you’ll be chanting spells over a cauldron,” Aunt Josephine snapped, and Anne didn’t bother to grace her with even a smile of courtesy. </p><p>“At this point I’ll do that even if it works,” she said. “Now would you mind getting out of the way?” She pulled the bubbling pot off the stove and carried it over to the living room, setting it on a coaster on the floor.</p><p>She helped Minnie May bend over the steaming pot, covering Minnie May’s head and the pot with a spare blanket. </p><p>“Just breathe, girl, that’s it,” Anne said softly. Minnie May attempted a couple of breaths before coughing, throwing the blanket off and flopping back, chest heaving. </p><p>“Can… Can’t,” was all she could manage to gasp out, and Diana brushed her sister’s hair away from her face, her face crumpling at the heat she found there. </p><p>“Anne, she’s burning up.” Diana’s tone was a trembling plea. When Anne had longed to hear Diana’s voice again, she hadn’t really meant this. Anne shot her a reassuring smile. </p><p>“She’ll be fine. I’ll get a cold washcloth, you open up to the window. Fresh air will help.”</p><p>“Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous,” Aunt Josephine grumbled, shuffling in front of the sink, and Anne exhaled sharply. </p><p>“I need to access the sink, would you please?” </p><p>Aunt Josephine flinched away, and Anne barely waited until she was out of the way before rushing to run the washcloth underneath the water. She rushed back to dampen Minnie May’s brow, and Diana shuddered with barely held back tears. </p><p>“She’s not getting better. We thought it was just a cough, we didn’t realize that it was—”</p><p>“That’s not your fault,” Anne said, firmly. “Minnie May’s going to be fine, Diana, you hear me?” </p><p>Diana nodded jerkily, wiping her cheeks roughly with the back of her hand. As if on cue, Minnie May’s breaths went dangerously faint, and Anne snapped to attention, drawing Minnie May’s head back. It wasn’t helping, Minnie May’s eyes fluttered, and Diana shrieked Anne’s name, clutching her sister’s leg and begging her to breathe. </p><p>Anne untangled herself, flying to the kitchen and pushing the table free of any objects. “Diana, bring her over here!” </p><p>Diana scooped Minnie May up, accidentally shoving past Aunt Josephine, and Anne helped her set Minnie May down, pushing her onto her stomach and pulling her half off the table. </p><p>“Hold her like that!” Anne called up to Diana, gently pounding at Minnie May’s spine.</p><p> “I can’t, she’s sweaty, she’s slipping!” Diana called back, and Anne had to scramble to clutch Minnie May’s shoulders as she slipped another inch off the table. </p><p>“Aunt Josephine!” Anne barked, and she could feel Minnie May’s balance stabilize. “That’s it Minnie May, breathe for me now, come on. You’re a strong girl, you can do it,” she murmured, running her hands in soothing circles against Minnie May’s back. </p><p>It took a minute of Anne’s begging and Diana’s stifled sobs for Minnie May to finally cough, and then finally, <em>finally </em>breathe. </p><p>Anne helped Minnie May back onto even keel on the table, and Anne and Diana shared a weary, triumphant smile over her prone form. Anne knew they were both thinking the same thing.</p><p>When they were finally together, they could conquer anything. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I checked, and croup still IS a thing, though I don't know how common it is. I don't have enough old wives tales for much anything else except covid and I'm setting this in a magical time where covid doesn't exist. (Like Anne, I prefer to imagine myself into better situations.) So, croup it is. </p><p>P.S. If anyone's wondering, tumeric and vicks/eucalyptus oil in a steaming pot of water IS a real and great way to clear up your nasal passage ways, so if anyone's suffering with that, there you go!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. For What is So Headstrong as Youth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>According to Diana, news of Prissy’s “supposed” relationship with Professor Philips was buzzing around Avonlea like flies on a dead carcass. But it had been a weekend. Anne was sure someone got drunk or something and caused a new scandal by the time she would arrive at school. She’d apologize to Prissy in person since her apology texts went unanswered, and things would be okay. </p><p>Everything would be okay. </p><p>The forest path was particularly foggy today, and Anne tried not to let that make her feel ominous. Today would be a new day, and she would behave like a completely normal person, and she would finally get friends. The kind every coming of age college movie promised. </p><p>It was just a set of few rules she had to follow. It wasn’t her fault that she’d never been taught, but if there was one thing that Anne knew about herself it was that she was a quick learner. It’d never taken her very long to pick up much of anything. This would be no different. </p><p>A car roared in front of her, right where the forest path intersected the road. A shining, silver Beamer. </p><p>Billy Andrew’s car. </p><p>Fuck. </p><p>There was no one around. The Cuthberts, being in the farm area of town, had a pretty solitary path to and from Avonlea Institute but it was broad daylight and this was a small town and Anne had stupidly, <i>stupidly</i> thought that made her safe. </p><p>It was stupid that Anne would survive rough urban cities only to die here, in the middle of Avonlea’s idyllic small town. And Billy Andrew’s eyes, when he stepped out of his car, promised no less than murder. </p><p>“Hey, Fido. Or should I say bitch?” He said, stalking towards her. Anne wanted to be Princess Cordelia, or a Lady Knight, but all she could be was stupid, clumsy Anne, and trip backwards over nothing. </p><p>Billy Andrew’s grin was triumphant. Anne could feel her heart thundering like the gallop of a thousand HellHounds, and she could feel it keenly: There was no imaginary world to save her now. There was only this, the horrible reality of Billy Andrews looming over her with his stupid Ralph Lauren polo shirt and Armani shoes. Somehow, a young man with bad intentions managed to be more terrifying than any dragon. </p><p>“You want to spread rumors about my sister, bitch?” He asked. </p><p>Anne crawled backwards. “I—”</p><p>He took another step forward, his voice going softer in stark contrast to the way his eyes went sharper, harder. She was wearing a skirt. She wanted to look good today, but now she was regretting it. She could see the way his eyes tracked the way it pulled up as she moved. </p><p>She didn’t have any presumptions that Billy Andrews found her attractive, but assault wasn’t always about that. Sometimes it was about power. And putting someone in their place. </p><p>“Everyone thinks my sister’s a slut, because of you,” he whispered. </p><p>“Billy—” Her voice trembled despite herself.</p><p>Billy ignored her, moving forward. “It’s only fair that—”</p><p>“Billy!” A voice called. </p><p>Billy's head snapped up to look behind her, and Anne squeezed her eyes shut, gasping for breath. </p><p>“Hey, bud,” Billy’s voice turned positively puppy dog friendly. Anne couldn’t move, some animal part of her convinced that as long as she didn’t move, Billy wouldn’t realize she was still there. </p><p>“How’ve you been?” The male voice said, coming up right behind her, and Anne tamped down a flinch. The man moved around her to draw Billy into a bro hug, and Anne could see the tops of his curling, dark hair over his dark gray hoodie. </p><p>“All good, man, how about you?” Billy said. </p><p>“It’s good to be back, honestly,” The guy said, stepping back, and Anne realized he had just placed himself in between Anne and Billy. Was that on purpose? The guy turned, looking down at her. He looked like something she’d conjured up. Sharp sloping nose, framed by dark, tea colored eyes and gently upturned eyebrows. She could tell by the deliberately innocent expression on his face that he knew perfectly well what he was doing. </p><p>Which made it even more likely that she’d conjured him up. No one saved Anne before. Anne saved herself. </p><p>“Oh, sorry, Miss, you must’ve tripped. Here, I’ll help you up,” He said. Anne, like a moron, didn’t process what he’d said until midway through the sentence, which, by that point, she’d already risen to her feet, ignoring his hand. He withdrew it, eyebrows furrowing for a quick second before turning back to Billy Andrews with the same Prince Charming smile. “Did you stop when you saw her fall? That’s awfully nice of you.” </p><p>Billy’s smile faltered. “Right. Yeah.” </p><p>There was a pause. “Well, you don’t want to be late, or you’re never going to find somewhere to park. Avonlea parking is the worst, isn’t it?” </p><p>Billy took another look at Anne, half hidden by the new guy’s lanky frame, and scoffed. “Yeah, it is. See you in class, Blythe.” </p><p>Gilbert shot him another smile, and Billy jogged back toward his car. </p><p>Anne wasn’t waiting for Billy to come back and decide he wanted to follow through after all. The close call left her reeling, nauseous. She was walking forward on complete autopilot, unaware of anything but the fact that she was still <i>all alone</i>, in the middle of the forest. She needed civilization, she needed witnesses, right now. She couldn’t stay in this forest a second longer. </p><p>“Need anything else? Any dragons in need of slaying?” He called out, and Anne felt her cheeks burn. God, how humiliating, it was like he’d plucked all of her allusions to him being a White Knight, right out of her head. </p><p>“No, thank you!” she choked out. Her ears were ringing, and vaguely she could hear the guy call out something else behind her, but all she could think of was <i>people</i>, she needed <i>people. </i></p><p>It took until she reached the Institute parking lot that she could breathe. It was then she realized that ignoring the guy who’d literally saved her from assault was probably rude at best and awful at worst. She whirled around abruptly, nearly smacking her face into the guy’s chest. She took a step back, huffing out a laugh. </p><p>“Um, sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you, I was just… I needed to be out of that forest.” She paused. “Now that’s something I never thought I’d hear myself say.” Which was probably something he didn’t understand, but he didn’t look at her like she was being incomprehensible, just smiled at her, smaller and more genuine than she’d seen in the forest. </p><p><i>He has a great chin</i>, she thought, and then tamped down the thought before it could show on her face, snapping her gaze up to his eyes, and sticking out a hand. “I’m Anne. With an E.” </p><p>His eyes warmed, the tea color melting into something almost honeyed in the peeking sunlight. “I’m—” </p><p>“Gilbert!” Moody howled, and bowled Gilbert over. Anne blinked, but before she could say much of anything else, the bells rang, and all the students headed back inside. </p><p>🙚🙘</p><p>“How dare you,” Josie spat out. Anne shot a look at Diana, but Diana was looking down, jaw clenched. Ruby seemed on the verge of tears, Tillie wrapping a comforting arm around her. </p><p>“I don’t understand,” Anne said, smiling Gilbert’s winning smile. It didn’t seem to work the same way for her. They just looked angrier, and her smile faltered. </p><p>“Do you know Gilbert was Ruby’s prom date?” Josie asked. “Ruby’s been in love with him since <i>freshman year of highschool</i>, and they were just about to get somewhere after prom before he had to leave to Alberta. Now he’s finally back, and they’re about to get together, and you think you can get in the middle of that, for what? A quick fuck? News flash, Oliver Twist, this isn’t a foster home you can sleep your way through. There are real actual relationships at stake. Ruby and Gilbert are made for each other.”</p><p>“We… we just talked,” Anne stammered. </p><p>Tille widened her eyes at the ground, muttering, “It didn’t look like ‘just talking’ to me.” </p><p>Anne pursed her lips, looking at the ground. It was true that she found him handsome but… a cute boy wasn’t about to get in the way of her first chance at real female friendships. She never had girl friends, and every heroine was fraught with them. She couldn’t let this opportunity go.  </p><p>“I won’t,” she said. </p><p>Josie crossed her arms. “You won’t, what?” </p><p>“Like him, or anything.” </p><p>“That’s not good enough. You can’t talk to him, you hear me?” </p><p>Anne looked up, and caught Diana’s eye. Diana bit her lip. “Josie, maybe that’s a bit too serious—”</p><p>“Well she better be serious about this. So? Are you going to or not? Or are you going to break poor Ruby’s heart?”  </p><p>Anne couldn’t do anything but shake her head. </p><p>They stomped back out inside, and Anne sat down on the bench, opening her lunch. Marilla didn’t have time to pack it today so she packed one herself, proud of herself for the flavorful combination of vegetables and condiments that she picked out. Guacamole and hummus! It was positively inspired. Or so she thought to herself that morning. Right now, she couldn’t bring herself to eat one bite. And after the events this morning, she didn’t really feel like taking a walk in nature by herself to clear her head. </p><p>She hated Billy Andrews for being able to take that from her, even for a day. </p><p>“Hey, you’re new here, right? I’m pretty sure that means you’ve never had the chance to try our famous apples.” </p><p>She peered up at him. He was holding out a blush coloured apple, wearing the same lopsided smile as this morning. </p><p>He held the apple out further, silently urging her to take it. “They’re pretty sweet,” he said softly. </p><p>For a second she almost wanted to smile back, but then she remembered Josie’s warnings, and looked down, clutching her sandwich for dear life. </p><p>“Please go away,” she mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t ask further. </p><p>He leaned forward. “I’m sorry, what was that?” </p><p>She looked up, and then caught the eye of the rest of the girls, who were watching her from a couple of ways away. No doubt anything she said would be too far for them to hear, and they’d take that as confirmation that she was flirting, or spreading more rumors, or—Her breath grew short. She couldn’t screw this up, she just <i>couldn’t</i>. </p><p>She jumped to her feet, tossing her precious lunch in the trash. “I should go.” </p><p>She could hear his bewildered, “Um, okay then,” behind her, and squeezed her eyes shut. It would all be worth it. As long as she had friends.</p><p>🙚🙘</p><p>She could feel the pencil hit her ankle. She knew it was on purpose. Diana tensed beside her, and Anne held deathly still. Her breath hitched, when he murmured a “sorry, excuse me,” <i>by her leg</i>, and it wasn’t until he was gone that she let herself peek at Josie, who was glaring daggers at her. She could hear Ruby’s muffled whimper behind her, but Professor Philips didn’t even turn around from his diatribe to the board. </p><p>Then Gilbert came back again, pushing an apple onto her desk. </p><p>What was his<i> problem</i>?</p><p>She could see Josie whispering something to Tillie in the corner, and she could feel all of her hopes for friendship steadily crumbling. </p><p>“Hey,” Gilbert hissed. </p><p>Anne ignored him. He did it again, scooting closer until she could feel the heat of him against the bare skin of her leg. Why wasn’t Professor Philips noticing? She clutched her ice coffee in her hand. Feeling the chill of it reminded her of Diana, who had gotten her an ice coffee and a muffin because she saw Anne throw her lunch away. Diana, who deserved better than to have a friend that ruined lives. Diana, who was counting on Anne to do Anne’s part to smooth things over, just as Diana was going to do hers. </p><p>“Hey.” Jesus <i>Christ</i>. “Hey, <i>Carrots</i>.” </p><p>And then he <i>tugged on her hair</i>. </p><p>That was the last straw. She shot to her feet, throwing her ice coffee in his face, shrieking, “I’m not talking to you!” </p><p>There was a beat of silence. And then, like the absolute asshole he was, he wiped the coffee out of his eyes, before smirking at her and muttering, “You just did.” </p><p>The entire class was frozen. Anne felt the weight of her actions hit her like an anvil. She just dumped her coffee on the <i>most popular boy in class.</i> In front of the <i>Professor</i>. </p><p>Said Professor was gaping at her, before he said, dangerously quiet, “Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. What a disgusting display of temper.” </p><p>Oh my god. Oh my <i>god</i>. </p><p>She couldn’t bear to be there any longer. She left her books, everything, and fled the scene. </p><p>Behind her, she could hear Gilbert going, “It was my fault, sir, I—”</p><p>But it didn’t matter. Gilbert Blythe had already ruined everything.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can't last too long without doing my husband, Gilbert Blythe. Like I said, I'm literally Anne. If you don't believe me, I broke a ping pong paddle over the head of my later crush when I was thirteen, so there. Unfortunately, that crush never liked me back, so I remain Gilbert Blythe-less and write this fic to fill the void. </p><p>If you want to find out about the full story about my not Gilbert Blythe, you can shoot me an ask @thesenseinnonsense on tumblr. </p><p>Enjoy, y'all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. An Inward Treasure Born</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Ruby was really beautiful. Anne hadn’t seen her without makeup, but she was as beautiful without it as she was with it, her pale blonde lashes and golden tresses and the freckles smattered across her nose. Ruby seemed like the type of girl who wanted to be pretty and was, while Anne was merely the former. </i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm not going to lie, I found it super cute that Anne was so nice to Ruby after her house burnt down, even though Ruby was never nice to her. Despite relating to Anne a lot, I don't know whether I would've gone that extra mile in comforting her, and I found it very admirable of Anne, her strength to be able to do that. </p>
<p>I want to get through as many drabbles from season one as possible since we're moving into season two, so we'll see how that goes. For now, however, my required one drabble of this week is up! Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ruby didn’t exactly look pleased to be there. She stared at the photos and print outs that Anne kept on her wall, poking her nose forward like a curious cat. </p>
<p>“Tea?” Anne asked. Ruby startled, blinking up at her with those doll-like blue eyes. Oh. She’d been crying. Anne could see the tear tracks plain on her face. </p>
<p>“Yes, I suppose,” Ruby said softly. </p>
<p>Ruby was really beautiful. Anne hadn’t seen her without makeup, but she was as beautiful without it as she was with it, her pale blonde lashes and golden tresses and the freckles smattered across her nose. Ruby seemed like the type of girl who wanted to be pretty and was, while Anne was merely the former. </p>
<p>Ruby took a small sip, wrinkling her nose seemingly out of mannerism more than disgust, because she hummed and took a second sip after. Then she set the cup down. Anne tried to find something to say. </p>
<p>“It’s okay, you know. I’m sure no one’s going to think that you wanted to stay at my house on purpose.”</p>
<p>Ruby’s lower lip trembled, before she pursed it so tightly it turned white. “Well, my reputation isn’t the only thing that got ruined today.” She looked up, eyes flickering with tears. Then she looked sharply away, pressing her eyes shut. “My clothes, everything. They’re probably all stained from the smoke. Insurance probably won’t bother with them. And my parents aren’t going to want to spend a fortune all at once to restore my closet.” </p>
<p>Anne thought of the few meager clothes she had, the new dress that Marilla had gotten for her. As meager as they were, if she’d lost them, she could only imagine how upset she would be. Then an idea struck her. </p>
<p>“We could go thrifting!” Anne said. </p>
<p>Ruby stared. “What?” </p>
<p>“I used to do it all the time in Halifax. You can really find some amazing stuff there,” Anne pressed on excitedly. “Finding things that looked good on me was hard, but it won’t be for you. You’re so pretty, you’d look good in anything.” </p>
<p>“I don’t want to look… poor,” Ruby said, voice trembling at the prospect. </p>
<p>Anne shook her head. “You won’t. Sometimes you can even find branded stuff, too. You can use those for now, and you can get all the latest pieces when you can. You only need winter wear for the next few months anyway. Isn’t Dolce and Gabbana coming out with a new winter wear line soon?” That last bit was a guess, but it seemed to work. </p>
<p>Ruby bit her lip. “Well… I suppose.” </p>
<p>“We can go sometime this week. And while we’re there we can stop at the hardware store to see what kind of cool stuff you’d want for your room. They’re repainting it, aren’t they? What if you painted it robin’s egg blue? Or a beautiful rose pink, could you imagine, with your complexion, a rose pink room? You could add gold accents, it would look positively <em>divine</em>.” </p>
<p>A small smile peeked out from Ruby’s face. “I do really like pink.” </p>
<p>Anne flopped back on the bed, groaning. “Of course, you do, it looks amazing on you. I’m so jealous, pink looks atrocious with red hair.” Anne got up, meeting Ruby’s eyes and giving her a reassuring smile. “Just you wait. A week will fly by, once you have things to look forward to.” </p>
<p>🙚🙘</p>
<p>It was on the second day that Anne decided to rope Ruby in to her attempts at baking. All she’d had to do was mention that it would be a nice thing to do for Gilbert, and Ruby’d closed the instagram app that she’d been scrolling through for the past three hours and threw on an apron. </p>
<p>The scones came out beautifully, if Anne did say so herself. Shame they’d have to go to <em>Gilbert</em>. Ruby’d gushed about him for an hour during their thrifting trip, and all Anne had to say was that Diana said Gilbert seemed pretty heroic, rushing to put out the fire on Ruby’s behalf. She left out the part where Diana was purposefully making fun of Anne by telling her that Anne and Gilbert made a good team, him being the dashing hero and her being the brave heroine, fighting fires together. </p>
<p>Diana was being annoying, and besides, Ruby had taken the three words, “on your behalf,” and run with them. If Gilbert Blythe was the one to put that big smile on her face, who was Anne to ruin that?</p>
<p>Ruby fussed over the presentation of the scones for a good twenty minutes before finally allowing Anne to drive her and the scones over to the Gillis’ house. </p>
<p>Thanks to Anne, the structural damage to the house was minimal, though they’d have to replace the drywall, and many of their possessions and furniture. Before the contractors came in to do all of that, they’d have to clear out the ruined possessions in the house, and the men all went to do that. Once they did, Mr. Barry had promised to get the Gillis’ in contact with some reputable contractors to handle the rest.</p>
<p>Matthew had been there half of yesterday and all morning today. Knowing him, he wouldn’t have bothered to eat properly, so Anne was glad for an excuse to go check on him. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, Matthew’s face wasn’t the first one she saw when she got out of the car. </p>
<p>“Look, it’s the freak and her twin sister!” Billy called out. </p>
<p>Gilbert looked up from where he was setting a slab of burnt rubble on top of the steadily growing pile at the end of the Gillis’ driveway. </p>
<p>“Oh, thank god, <em>food</em>. I’ve been starving,” he said, loping over.  </p>
<p>Ruby opened the container eagerly, and Anne rolled her eyes, setting the box of coffee she’d gotten on the fold out table on the lawn. </p>
<p>The minister was sitting on a lawn chair. </p>
<p>“Coffee, Minister?” Anne asked politely. </p>
<p>He sat up eagerly. “Don’t mind if I do. All this stuff… It’s back-breaking work.” </p>
<p>It was, and Anne was sure he hadn’t done one bit of it. But she just smiled and poured him a cup, imagining Marilla’s wrath if she didn’t. </p>
<p>After she was done with that, Anne turned back to the curb, where Gilbert and Ruby were still standing, apparently loathe to move. Anne walked over and took the tupperware out of Ruby’s limp grip, and Ruby seemed to barely notice, staring dreamily at Gilbert while he ate. </p>
<p>Gilbert nodded at Anne. “This is really good.” </p>
<p>Anne squinted at him, trying to figure out his angle. The compliment seemed almost… genuine. She raised her chin. “Ruby helped make them.” There. If there was insult she missed in his compliment, he’d have to know that it applied to his beloved Ruby too. That would show him. </p>
<p>Gilbert seemed startled by the mention, and he turned back to Ruby again. “Oh, right. Thanks, Ruby.” </p>
<p>Ruby’s eyes went wide, her smile brightening. “Of course! Anything for you, Gilbert!” she squeaked. </p>
<p>Anne caught sight of Matthew ambling out of the house, and went over to him, calling out, “Matthew! Did you eat yet?” </p>
<p>Matthew mumbled something about work to do, and Anne was in the middle of forcing a scone and a lecture on him when she heard a yelp behind her. </p>
<p>Ruby apparently had tripped over a piece of the rubble and fell. Gilbert, already a few paces more toward the house, was too far to catch her, and she was on the ground in a spectacular sprawl. </p>
<p>There was the sound of Billy’s barking laughter again. “Oh, wow! Walk much, Ruby?”</p>
<p>Anne whirled on him, anger flaring to life. “What is wrong with you?” </p>
<p>Billy scoffed. “Me? What’s wrong with you? What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you and all the other girls be at home baking cookies?” </p>
<p>“Newsflash, Andrews, they already did,” Gilbert said flatly, helping Ruby to her feet. Her face was bright pink, but Anne couldn’t tell if it was from the embarrassment of the fall or the proximity of Gilbert. The idea that it might’ve been the former was even more enraging. The girl had literally <em>just</em> lost her house! </p>
<p>“This is Ruby’s property, you ass!” she shouted. </p>
<p>Billy’s face pinched into a snarl. “Why don’t you shove off and leave the men to their work?” </p>
<p>“Why don’t you give me those gloves and I’ll do it myself, seeing as <em>you’re </em>too busy being a bully to actually get anything done!” Anne snapped. </p>
<p>Some of the men whistled in appreciation, and Anne smirked at Billy’s dumbstruck expression. Finally, he turned away with a, “Whatever, loser” which was a futile attempt at saving face. </p>
<p>“Are you alright?” Gilbert murmured to Ruby, but Anne didn’t bother hearing Ruby’s response. </p>
<p>She turned to Matthew. “You’ll bring back the container, right?” </p>
<p>Matthew gave her a small smile. “If I know what’s good for me, yeah.” </p>
<p>Anne grinned at him, and leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Matthew.” Then she caught sight of the Minister, still frozen in shock from witnessing her screaming. “Thanks for the advice, Minister. You’re right, honesty is <em>so</em> satisfying.” </p>
<p>The Minister sputtered, and she smirked, whirling around and dragging Ruby back to the car. </p>
<p>“Bye, Gilbert!” Ruby called out behind them, and even that didn’t faze Anne. </p>
<p>She felt like a <em>queen</em>. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Remorse is the Poison of Life (Part Two)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><i></i><br/>Marilla looked different. That’s the first thing that Gilbert could think. She was full cheeked, and brightly smiling, almost nothing like the stern, no-nonsense woman he’d grown up around. His dad had his arm around her, head thrown back, in the middle of laughter whereas Marilla seemed to be at the end of it. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Underneath the picture was the caption: “Class Sweethearts of ‘63: Most Likely to Get Married.” </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Married. Jesus Christ.</i></p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know Marilla talks more in this, and Marilla is a lot like my dad, which means if my dad was in this situation he'd literally say four sentences during this scene like Marilla did in the show. But I wanted to have Marilla say a bit more, and Gilbert kind of know that Marilla and John had a thing, given the age of technology and the higher likelihood that their relationship in some innocuous form, was documented. I felt like it added to the strength of the relationship, the reason that Marilla felt comfortable having Gilbert over to their house for Christmas in Season 2.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marilla looked different. That’s the first thing that Gilbert could think. She was full cheeked, and brightly smiling, almost nothing like the stern, no-nonsense woman he’d grown up around. His dad had his arm around her, head thrown back, in the middle of laughter whereas Marilla seemed to be at the end of it. </p><p>Underneath the picture was the caption: “Class Sweethearts of ‘63: Most Likely to Get Married.” </p><p>Married. Jesus Christ. </p><p>Growing up, his mother was never present, but he had no doubt that his father had loved her. His father had stories of a kind woman, soft spoken and sweet, whom he was sure that Gilbert had inherited his good heart from, as well as his looks. Gilbert had never considered any other loves in his father’s life. His mother’s relatives, before they’d passed, had always said that his father was the only one that his mother had ever considered, even though sometimes the tone they said it in was anything but complimentary. </p><p>The idea that there were parts of his father’s life that he had yet to know—<em>that he might never know</em>—made the void in his chest yawn wider, and threaten to swallow him whole, from the inside out. </p><p>He took another look at his father’s laughing face, and closed the yearbook, stuffing it back in the box. He needed some fresh air. </p><p>🙚🙘</p><p>Marilla was at his father’s grave. When she heard his footsteps, she barely turned. </p><p>“I’m sorry. I’ll just be on my way,” she said crisply, but her eyes were a thousand miles away. </p><p>“No, no, you don’t have to go. It’s fine.” Gilbert looked at her severe bun, the lines creasing her face, trying to find the woman from the picture. She looked nothing more than weathered by grief, and Gilbert wondered if people saw that in him too. </p><p>It was barely a beat before she spoke. “It seems weird to think of John staying still in one place. He was a traveler, at heart.” </p><p>“He always said he was glad that he got to see as much of the world as he did,” Gilbert said carefully. </p><p>Marilla hummed. “I’m glad. He had the life full of adventure he always wanted.” She spoke matter-of-factly, and Gilbert could feel himself relax. Here was someone who held an imprint of his father in their hearts, just as he did. Who knew the pieces that had made up his father, pieces that Gilbert thought he was the only one that truly understood. </p><p>What was it that Anne said? Kindred spirits? </p><p>Right now, in front of his father’s grave, Gilbert felt like he’d finally found someone kindred to share his grief, his burden. It was the last person he thought would have given him that feeling. Marilla and him had barely talked more than passing greetings for the past decade and a half.</p><p>“I saw your picture. In his yearbook,” He said. </p><p>Marilla straightened up imperceptibly. “And you’re wondering what happened?” </p><p>“You don’t have to tell me. Not if you don’t want to,” Gilbert said. Marilla waved him off. </p><p>“No, no, not at all. Me and your father never were trying to hide it. There was simply nothing more to say.” Marilla looked down. “After Michael…” She trailed off. Everyone in Avonlea knew the story of the tragic accident that took Michael away from the Cuthberts. Gilbert nodded, and Marilla continued. “My mother… I needed to stay behind to take care of her. Of everyone. Your father wanted to see the world. And my world was here. From then and onwards. I couldn’t make him stay. I couldn’t leave with him.” </p><p>Gilbert didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, Marilla didn’t seem to be done speaking. </p><p>“I can tell that you’re like him,” she said. </p><p>Gilbert felt a corner of his mouth tilt up. The thought of him carrying a piece of his father with him, in a visible way that people could see, was heartening. </p><p>Then Marilla continued, “Matthew called me, after he saw you at the store. He said that you seemed a little preoccupied, about your property.” </p><p>Gilbert felt the easy mood lift at once. His jaw clenched, and he looked down. “I—”</p><p>Marilla held up a hand. “He didn’t mean to betray your confidence. And I hope you know that his offer to take care of your orchard next spring is a genuine one.” </p><p>Gilbert nodded. “I know it is. And I’m grateful, but I meant what I said. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it yet.” </p><p>Marilla sighed. “I know. And I hope you’ll forgive me for presuming to give you advice on your father’s behalf, but… I know what it means to be tied down by obligation. And your father worked hard to make sure that you wouldn’t have to know that. That’s all I know for certain.” </p><p>Gilbert took a deep breath, and nodded. </p><p>“I always wondered, what would’ve happened if I…” Marilla seemed to come back to herself, and stiffened, face shuttering closed. Gilbert knew he got as much out of her as he was going to get. “Well, I should get going.” </p><p>Gilbert nodded, and Marilla patted his shoulder briskly, before striding off. </p><p>Gilbert looked back at his father’s gleaming gravestone, the embossed letters of his name. He was pretty sure he knew now, what he had to do.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If anyone has any requests for any scenes they can leave a message in my inbox, <a href="https://thesenseinnonsense.tumblr.com/">here</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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